


I Run with my Hands Over my Eyes

by 7ShadowsUnleased



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Blind Ignis Scientia, Episode Ignis Spoilers, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Let's talk about that vision though ..., Mental Breakdown, Post-Altissia (Final Fantasy XV), Ring of the Lucii (Final Fantasy XV), The Devs and I need to have a chat, mentions of Lunafreya/Noctis, the Chocobros need hugs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:40:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22414882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/7ShadowsUnleased/pseuds/7ShadowsUnleased
Summary: There was a vision, there was a battle, there was a death, there was a ring, then there was darkness ... now, in the aftermath, the Royal Advisor to the Lucis Caelum throne is left to put his king back together as he himself falls apart.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia & Prompto Argentum & Noctis Lucis Caelum & Ignis Scientia
Comments: 2
Kudos: 28





	I Run with my Hands Over my Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> I have been torturing my boyfriend with my sudden fascination with Final Fantasy XV - more specifically Ignis Scientia. Now, I shall also torturing the world of Archive because I can, I guess.  
> I have deemed it time to address that scene post Altissia. I needed more angst. Cue distortion.
> 
> Written to the muse of my Thiago, Spyro the cat, and “All the King’s Horses” by Karmina. I am going to be looping this song for the next century.

The warmth that blessed their star with light and life was caressing his soft skin and raw scars indiscriminately. The worn velvet chair upon which he sat was warm to the touch as it too soaked in the sun’s gentle rays. A week … a month … a year ago, Ignis Scientia would have basked in the comforting rays gracing his face, but now the heat conjured memories of fire in his veins. His own raw screams echoed around his head as the sun tore memories of the Lucii’s liquid power worrying its fangs into his face, then deeper, biting and tearing into his flesh until everything he knew was pain. It had shredded his retinae and scalded his corneas, and, with them, devoured his vision.

He should consider himself lucky that that was all the price he paid.

There was a groaning body on the bed behind him, belonging to his aching majesty, Noctis Lucis Caelum. The sheets rustled as the boy - or was his king now a man ? - eased himself up. 

He should consider himself lucky that his prize was alive.

His boy-king-prince-man with no kingdom, no throne, a scattered people, a dead father, and a fiancée who had melted into a tiny flurry of blue sylleblossom petals and danced out to sea … 

_‘Even in death, the Oracle does not rest._ ’

A shake of his head dragged him to the present.

"Back with us ?" Ignis asked. _But, according to Pryna, not to stay._

He suspected that his vision was simply a down-payment. The real bill was yet to arrive.

His boy-king-prince-man- _brother_ was to die to correct the Astrals’ mistake. Lady Lunafreya had already died for this mistake.

The thought brought with it a call to action. Instincts honed from the tender age of six urged Ignis to race to Noctis’ bedside. Every fibre of his being screamed _‘Tend. Heal. Fix your boy-prince-king-man-brother-charge,’_ almost overriding the logical part of his brain’s insistence that one of his eyes was open, but there was no visual input. In his present state, Ignis was helpless … useless … a facsimile of a royal advisor and Crownsguard with all of the knowledge but none of the ability. 

For now, he needed to trust the doctors of Altissia with the last of the line the Lucii. 

The Lucis Caelum line had always been an endangered species steps away from extinction. Now, they stood one step from being a fairy tale.

 _Not one step. No, they are a fairy tale walking._ Noct must die.

His Lucis Caelum - his His Royal Highness, Noctis Lucis Caelum, 114th King of Lucis - was the last. Had King Regis sent them on this road trip knowing … everything ? The prophecy ? That Insomnia would fall ? 

That his son was to sit upon the throne of Lucis and allow himself to die ?

Noctis had stopped groaning and the bed had not creaked its displeasure as it once again became the resting place of the royal human house cat, so it was safe to assume that he had reached and remained in upright position. 

Ignis slowly tapped his hand over from his thigh to the arm of his chair, then another few pats to confirm that there was not another object beside it. 

He pushed himself to his unsteady feet. He was still adjusting to the vertigo of standing without the vision needed to balance. The distance from his head to his feet felt impossibly long. He could hear his blood rushing past his ears to his feet like pebbles in a rain stick. 

For a moment, he was completely isolated from the world. He was certain that his feet were on the ground, yet the sensation of solidity provided by the floor had yet to reach his brain. 

He clutched the chair arm as delicately as possible, grounding himself in this place. His king-boy-prince-man-brother-fated was here - _alive_ \- in this moment, expecting him to fulfil his duty as an advisor and Crownsguard. Ignis carefully worked his hand around the chair arm and used it to pivot towards Noctis’ bed. Walking into furniture was not an option for a royal advisor. 

He took another step towards what he hoped was the centre of the room and a safe distance away from treacherous chair legs and coffee tables.

"I’ll tell the others." If he recalled correctly, the door was across from his chair - he was almost certain that he had walked into a nightstand trying to find it last time.

A pause as he waited for Noctis to fill the silence. Ask which others. Force him to tell. 

"Though it may take a bit." An admission that he was not fit for his duties. An admission that his mission had gone to Ifrit in a flaming handbasket.

The bed creaked slightly, and Ignis turned towards the sound.

He heard a gasp, and his heart clenched with it. 

"You’re hurt …" 

He knew there were scars. He could fight his every expression, stiff where the flesh should morph into a smirk or pull into a raised brow. In the middle of the night, he would investigate them, probing with his sensitive fingertips towards the precipice where his skin just … ended. At the bottom of that tiny cliff, a vast field of burnt flesh - strangely smooth … almost shiny - spread from his left cheekbone across his eye and up to his temple. Even his sunglasses did not cover the jagged edges. 

_I am no longer fit to be your advisor._

"A … small sacrifice in the greater battle."

_You have given more. You will give even more._

"And Luna ?" There it was, gasped through a voice choking, not yet with tears but with the anticipation of them. 

_Please don’t make me answer that question._

He turned away now, towards the door. He had yet to learn if his spectral-scorched eyes cried tears. They felt like they would cry liquid fire, etching new scars. Ignis. 

_It is my job to answer that question._

He gathered up his emotions and threw them into the back of his mind.

"She has passed." _I am sorry._

He waited for tears. He waited for anger. He waited for an object to fly towards his head, the way Noctis had raged as a child. He waited for any reaction. 

First, he heard the barest scrunching of Noctis’ leather sword glove. Then he heard the choking gasps dissolve into sobs, and he knew it was time to make his exit. 

"Umbra left that for you." And he left.

* * *

Ignis leaned heavily on the door, fighting down the tears that threatened to burn new trails down his face. They were unbecoming of a Lucian advisor, even an imitation such as himself. If nothing else, he needed to present as someone deserving of his now-undeserved title. How would Noctis be taken seriously if his advisor looked better suited to sweeping hotel hallways for spare change ?

He wasn’t sure who the tears were for. Noctis and Lady Lunafreya, logically, for the stolen promise of their marriage. Gladio and little Iris had lost their father and most of their household. Prompto had yet to hear from his parents. Ignis wondered if he hoped to hear from them yet, or had finally discarded them the way they had discarded him. There were also tears for his accidental ally, who had lost his sister. Not even a body upon which last rights could be bestowed, just sylleblossom petals sinking to the bottom of the ocean.

_‘Even in death, the Oracle does not rest.’_

Ignis had decided that he could forgive Ravus for attacking Noctis. Had it been Noctis, the world would have resembled Titan’s meteor before Ignis’ rage had burnt itself out.

It will be Noctis.

King Regis had left behind a son with a destiny of death and a broken kingdom scattered across the continent. Ignis was not sure if he should cry for the fallen king or the son left behind. 

_‘Why did he stand there smiling as I left ?’_

_Because you would still be here after he passed._

Maybe he should just cry for Insomnia. 

It was in that hallway that he fell to his knees on the plush carpets of the Leville and wept for his world. Tears for a king. Tears boy made king before his time. Tears for an Oracle who would not rest even as her spirit sank beneath grey waves. Tears for brothers who watched their city crumble. Tears for broken souls and distorted fates. Tears for his city, his country, his people, his family … 

_My last sight of you, you were burning …_

His Insomnia. 

He stifled his sobs in an attempt to spare his and his king’s dignity with the remaining scraps of his training hastily pulled into a mask. Even the eye he could no longer open - burnt shut by the price of the Lucii - spilled tears across the massive brand that marred half his face. The salt burned, and his sobs were broken with hisses of pain as tears trailed sadistically slowly down the curves of his cheeks. It was unbecoming of a Crownsguard to dissolve like this.

A guilty part of him hoped that his sobs were drowned out by Noctis’ own. It was unbecoming for a king to witness his Crownsguard in this state.

Ignis could not pinpoint when he had stumbled to his shaky feet, leaning heavily on the wall as he lurched and wobbled down the hall towards the elevator that would take him to the dining room. With his free hand, Ignis tried to rub the tears away, scrubbing harder and harder at his fragile skin until he felt something thicker and less painful seep from under his burnt left eye. 

_How else shall this day go awry ?_

Ignis cupped his free hand under his chin and whirled around clumsily, collapsing against the wall when his head refused to stop reeling. Everything was out of balance. He was out of balance. He could feel the world spinning, yet he could not see it, and that was somehow more disorienting.

His head throbbed, and he once again sank down the wall to the floor, folding in on himself to ride out the storm.

* * *

Prompto was balancing two takeaway boxes when he stepped out of the elevator - one for Ignis and one for Noctis once he woke up. It took barely a second for them to drop from his hands to the floor, where one was crushed as Gladio sprinted from the elevator.

"Ignis ?"

"Iggy !" Prompto sprinted after him. 

"Prompto, check on Noct." Gladio knelt before Ignis. The advisor's knees were tucked against his chest, and his head was pressed against his knees, gelled hair now crumpled into disorder.

The shield carefully tipped the advisor's head up towards the light to check the mangled mess that was his face. The lack of resistance worried Prompto. Ignis fought tooth and nail for his dignity - manhandling was unbecoming of a Lucian advisor. Crescent-shaped wounds still wept sticky yellow blood serum, but the dried blood was already beginning to flake from his skin. Prompto spared the advisor a glance before steeling himself to open the door Noct’s room.

His arm was wrenched into the room as the door flew open and Noct stormed into the hallway. 

* * *

Ignis winced as Noctis’ door slammed into a wall with enough force that the plaster crunched. They would need to take a hunt to afford the repairs and food. 

"Ignis, what did you do to yourself ?" Ignis suspected that Gladio was trying to be gentle, but his chin was pinned between the Shield’s fingers at an angle that only exacerbated the pounding of his temples. 

Ignis bit his cheek to stifle a groan, running his hand down the Shield’s arm until he located his chest, then shoved him away with as much force as he could muster. It was pitiful, but the action must have taken Gladio by surprise, as he released Ignis’ chin. 

"What the -"

Ignis seized that opportunity and bolted down the hallway, smashing the elevator’s call button and hoping desperately that it was still on their floor.

"What are you doing ?"

"Iggy !"

_ting !_

"As your prince, I order you not to get on that elevator. Ignis, don’t you dare !"

Ignis forced himself through the doors and smashed the first button he found on the panel.

"Ignis !" Someone was grabbing his shirt. The elevator doors Gladio’s arm as he held them open. The alarm screeched.

His temples throbbed with the combination of adrenaline, vertigo, and the incessant wail of the alarm. Ignis dropped to his knees once more. 

* * *

Gladio forced his arm farther into the elevator, hunting for the hold button. Why did this panel have so many buttons ? Why did this hotel need so many floors ? Why did Ignis to _rip his face apart ?_

Aha. The doors sprang open, and a blissful silence followed as the alarm decided that it had better things to do than berate Lucian royalty. Not wasting another second, Gladio scooped up Ignis. This was the second time in far too few days that he had carried his comrade to the royal suite. Ignis needed to stop making a habit of this.

Noctis and Prompto trailed him, the prince wordlessly pulling back the covers of the closest bed as the sniper fetched the first aid kit. It was barely a step away. 

Six, they could use a break.

Prompto passed the kit to Noctis and set to removing Ignis' shoes. 

Noctis' eyes jumped from his advisor to the box and back several times. Gladio was ready to swipe it and set to work before the prince managed to shake himself back into the moment. 

"Disinfectant is the blue one, correct ?"

Gladio nodded wordlessly as he circled around to the other side of the crowded bed.

Noctis opened the bottle, setting the lid back in the box with surgical precision before opening a sterile pad and saturating it with the solution. "Should I do … all of it ?"

Probably, but the wound was massive and raw, and the prince looked shaken enough for one day. Ignis screaming bloody murder would break him. "Just do the new ones for now." Just clean the nail marks that surrounded Ignis' eyes like giant, weeping freckles.

* * *

Noctis pursed his lips in concentration as he dabbed the astringent over the new wounds, actively trying to avoid the burn that marred the majority of the left side of his advisor’s face. The exposed flesh was both raw red and metallic, and nowhere near as knotted as the burns in the glaive's first aid manual. No one could look at that wound and think that Ignis had suffered misfortune at the end of a candlestick. It was so clearly otherworldly in origin … Lucian crystal in origin … 

Noctis wanted to vomit. He wanted to chuck the ring into the Titan's mouth and hope that Astrals had stronger stomach acid than humans. He wanted to climb into the ring and scream at the Lucii until they took back their price. Until they returned his advisor's vision.

_I will make them regret it, Iggy._

He wondered if his father had consented to this price. 

_Dad, if you didn't try to spare him, I will warp-strike you._

He was being immature and he knew it. At least he was being immature for Ignis instead of to Ignis.

He dropped the spent pad on the bed dry side up and gently tipped Ignis' face to better inspect his handiwork.

_Why ?_

His vision was warping.

"Why did you do this, Iggy ?" he dropped to his knees beside the bed. "You"- his breath caught on his broken heart -"You ... and Luna … Dad …" Someone was wrapping their arms around him, tow hair pressing against his cheek.

"It's okay." Prompto whispered, his tiny voice suddenly the loudest sound in the world. "Well, it's not _okay_ , but we'll get through it. We’ll be okay ..."

There was water on his cheek, but it was not his. He had spent his tears over that precious memory book. He snaked an arm around the blond and pulled him in for a hug.

He stretched his free arm toward his stoic shield. Gladio's schooled mask was cracking. Tears clung to the corners of his eyes.

_You can cry here. I as your prince command you …_

Gladio's arms wrapped around them both, his tears falling on Noctis' jacket with faint _plick_ 's. 

A hand dropped on to his head, long fingers ruffling his hair gently.

"Please cry. As your advisor and your friend, I command you."


End file.
